


After Class Activities

by knives4cash



Series: Pollination: The Bumblebee and White Rose [58]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Bumblebee - Freeform, F/F, Fluff, Humor, Romantic Comedy, Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:13:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2676896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knives4cash/pseuds/knives4cash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blake has a thing for Glynda Goodwitch. A saucy time ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Class Activities

Look at her. Just soak in the view of this magnificent woman. Legs are toned, sleek, muscled, the skintight leggings leave little to the imagination. She’s proud of her body, click-clacking as she moves about the floor in those small, yet definitive and black heels she asserts herself. Her legs go on forever, eventually coming to her hips. Toned and plenty of muscle definition, making them noticeably wide; we all have muscle, it’s necessary for our athletic lifestyles, but hers are something special. Mine are practical, hers are just flat out hot. 

Years of combat, training, conditioning have culminated into a set of hips that move like no other, a set I’ve never laid eyes upon. Yang’s are a close runner-up, but Glynda’s hips take the cake. The skirt she sports is abnormally short today. She never wears anything below the knees, but today she has chosen to wear one that’s only eight… maybe eight and a half inches below her pantyline. It suits her well. I hope she keeps it. Due to our low animation budget, no one can afford a wardrobe makeover. 

The material of her business attire is tight, snuggly wrapped around her slim midriff. I bet her abs are hard enough to crush steel. But her skin must be so smooth, soft. Role playing with Yang has been a fantastic experience, but she’ll never be the real thing. Still, no harm in feasting on the eye candy. Yang’s reasonable like that. “We can look at other butts. We can appreciate the beauty of other butts. But as long as we know to whom our own butts belong, we’ll be fine. No if’s, and’s, or butts.” She always says that last part with too much laughter to sound serious, but we both know that this is an exclusive deal. 

Quickly, Blake! There are only a few precious minutes of class left! Focus! Her hair, look at her hair. Blonde, like Yang’s. Thick and flowing, like Yang’s I’m sure; she keeps it all tied up in a bun in the back, save for a few locks on her right side which is such a shame. Her eyes are sharp and observant, keen on any uncalled movements in her classroom. It’s how she’s stayed alive in battle. Her eyes require glasses, a rare thing in this world; but they compliment her quite nicely, really brings out the green. I could stare for hours as she paces and walks.

She speaks, and I hear. But I don’t really register. Those perky breasts, slowly bouncing, slightly giggling back and forth, up and down, side to side. The massive hole in the middle of her shirt isn’t exactly practical, and it certainly doesn’t help a lot of us concentrate on her lecture, but it is certainly a window to a very nice place. Just look at those perky puppies, not as big as Yang’s, but they go quite nicely with her figure. 

Just in time, she turns around. But her cape blocks my view of her rear. Curses, foiled again by that ragged piece of cloth! I bet it jiggles with each step. Maybe if she didn’t wear such tight fitting clothes and got rid of the cape the world could more easily take in her beauty… 

“Any questions? Of course not, there never are. Class dismissed,” she curtly concedes to the auditorium as she performs a simple swiping motion with her hand and erases the complex equations and physics diagrams that were on the board. 

“Oops,” I suddenly realize. 

Yang chuckles and gently nudges my left shoulder. “What’s the matter, Blake? Forgot to take notes? Too busy fantasizing again,” she prods with a gleaming smirk. 

We didn’t bring much for this class. Each of us a notebook, six colored pens for myself and a dull pencil for Yang. Her grade fluctuates between B+ and A- with the occasional A, so I’m not complaining. We’re packed in a few seconds. 

“Just appreciating the eye candy,” I confess with no hint of remorse. “You and I need to do the roleplay thing later,” I strongly urge as we wait for the students at the end of the row to file out. 

“Sorry, kitty cat,” Yang apologises as she squeezes my rear. “It’s a White Rose day for the dorm.”

Lovely. Fantastic. “Fine, what about the rooftop?” I ask. That’s been a good place to go, not many people know about it, and the sound bounces around so much we can be loud and no one can pinpoint our location. 

“With the hot summer sun out? We’d burn to a crisp,” Yang answers as I grab her by the midriff and pull her close. 

Lovely. “Broom closet? I’m not too particularly picky today,” I urge. 

“How are we going to roleplay in a broom closet?” she gawks a bit too loudly. 

Forget the roleplay. “I’ve been watching this woman for the past seventy-five minutes, Yang. I NEED release,” I mutter into her ear. 

She struggles to maintain her composure. There’s a brief jump in her aura, undoubtedly from my proposition. 

My Scroll vibrates. Great, my technology is taunting me now. 

“What is it?” Yang asks, looking over her shoulder. “Are Ruby and Weiss not gonna do the do?” 

That would be lovely, but unfortunately Fate has other plans. “I am to remain behind,” I inform her with a sense of dread. “Glynda is detaining me.” 

“I hope she brought handcuffs.” Aura flaring, Yang quickly ends with a bold and ludicrous, “Bow-chicka-bow-wooo-”

My increasingly intruding nails in her side kill the rest of that lewdity. 

“-oookay, nevermind then!” she cheerfully decides as she hops onto our auditorium bench… table.. things. Everyone else is still cramming the sides of the room as they’re trying to file out. A few even approach Glynda for after class questions. “Don’t get yourself killed, Blake!” Yang asks as she starts parkouring down to the floor, hopping and skipping down the tables as if they were her own private stairwell. “I’ll see you soon!”

“Miss Long, you will be the one to carve me a new set of auditorium equipment if you do that again!” Glynda calls out to her as she bolts out of the classroom. 

I leave my things in my assigned seat and slowly make my way down to Glynda. She finishes speaking to the last of the silhouettes makes their way out of the professor’s domain. 

Her movements change. She transitions from her curt, mechanical, interviewer attitude in her step to a more smooth, sleek, dare I suggest graceful approach. “Miss Belladonna,” she welcomes with her business attitude, but there’s… warmth in it. It’s never been there before. 

“Huntress Goodwitch,” I formally address with a slightly racing heartbeat. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes, I did,” she answers as she begins to move behind her desk. I catch a glimpse of her rear. Bouncy. Nice. With a wave of her hand, the doors are shut, and she begins to remove her cape. “Miss Belladonna- well, you can address me by my first name. May I do the same for you?” she asks as she rounds the desk and tosses her cape to its surface. 

Very peculiar. But she seems comfortable with me. “Um, sure. What’s wrong, Glynda?” I ask, her first name coming off awkwardly as I’ve never addressed her before. “My grades are fine. Am I being suspected of academic dishonesty?” 

She chuckles. She actually chuckles. Shaking her head, she begins, “Oh, Blake. You’re too strung up. The week’s almost over. You should relax. Like me.” She lifts her arms up, tensing her muscles. They threaten to tear her white fabric apart. She puts them to her sides, curling her hands into fists and yawning. I wonder if she’s deliberately giving me a showcase of her chest. I can’t say I’m complaining, as there’s no ban on teacher and student… relations. But Yang and I are exclusive. 

She leans forward, placing her hands on the desk and using her arms to squeeze her bosom. “I know you and Miss Long are a solid item, and I’m sure she has her redeeming qualities, but she’s just so brutish and uncivil, especially in public. She is the first student I’ve had to ban from the library, you know.” 

“Yang may have her social qualms, but we work perfectly together,” I inform her as I struggle to maintain eye contact when she’s got those magnificent booookay I’ve lost eye contact. 

She smiles, eyeing me up and down. Perhaps my academy uniform’s skirt could do with a few more inches. Her face suggests that it could do with fewer. “I assume she makes up for those deficits with an overwhelming excess in the bedroom?” she teases, taking off her glasses and falling back into her chair. A dismissive motion of her hand casts the desk aside, sliding it to the end of the auditorium and leaving me with no barrier between her and myself. 

“Perhaps,” I hesitantly answer as she slowly lifts up her right leg and crosses it over her left. This is highly unusual of her. There’s a low, resonating aura pulse, but it’s not like Yang’s. Granted, she’s a one of a kind, but I’ve had my whole life to figure out when someone’s horny. She’s not. 

Glynda sets her leg down and gives a powerful cast off in my direction. She rolls up to me, just stopping short of a few inches. “Then if she’s so great with you by herself,” she begins as she brings a hand up to her blonde bun. Temptingly, she undoes the bun and lets loose a marvelous flood of curly hair and quietly offers, “Why don’t we see how much better she is with some assistance from a more experienced woman? Such as myself?” 

“...Are you trying to seduce me, Glynda?” I finally wonder. I know the woman’s at the peak of her prime, but isn’t this just a little cliche? It’s not like I’m the star of some poorly written romantic comedy… right? 

“Oh, we’re both trying to do more than that, Miss Belladonna.” 

I turn to the doorway. It’s Yang. In her roleplay Glynda outfit. Aura igniting, she saunters forward. “You’ve been doing poorly in our class, Miss Belladonna,” she states in her best Glynda impression. 

Glynda stands up and places her hands on my shoulders. “And we need to discuss extra credit assignments,” she adds as Yang slams the door shut. 

“We’ll get you sorted out,” Yang chuckles as she wraps her hands around my midriff. “Even if it takes us aaaall day and night,” she murmurs into my ear. 

I don’t know how she convinced Glynda to get in on this, but I think it would be in my best interest to hold off on the questions for now and get rid of these clothes.

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for chaosarmageddon. I hope you all enjoy!


End file.
